With You
by seastarved
Summary: In which Emma and Killian are forced to stay in the Enchanted Forest in the past. Canon Divergence at 3x22.
1. Chapter 1: With You

_Graphic here:_ tmblr . co/ZVRwvr1FnBTzf

_A/N:_ I'm slowly uploading all the fic I have up on tumblr. This is part 1/4. I should have the other chapters up tomorrow. Feedback makes me dance a happy dance. :)

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing.

* * *

It only hits her late that first night when she's lying alone in the (too large) bed at the inn they'd found. (He'd taken the floor) (_I'm always a gentleman_) She's stuck here. She's stuck here and she'll never see Henry again, never hear him laugh or cry or grow up to be the kind of man she'd be proud of. She'd never hug her parents again, never get to call them Mom and Dad (how she wishes she could have given them that little gift before she had left), never see her mother smile, never feel her father's hand stroking her hair when he held her (warm and safe and _home_) and she can't breathe. Her eyes burn, her stomach feels like there is a weight in it that threatens to drown her and the room is so _cold_. She sits up as quietly as she can but she can't control the large shaky breath she takes or the choked sob that slips past.

"Swan?", his voice is low and thick with sleep.

A beat.

"Emma, love, are you alright?"

She hears him standing up, feels the bed dip beside her and then suddenly his arms surround her (_oh darling)_ and she clings to him, her solid anchor in this threatening ocean. He holds her through the tears, and the shudders that wrack her body afterwards, never letting go, never loosening his grip, letting her know that he was here and he was real.

Later, when she's drifting off to an exhausted sleep with his warmth curled around her (_stay, please)_, she realises that she isn't alone in this.

She grips the arm around her tighter.

* * *

They find a cabin in the forest. It's empty and broken down but it's out of the way and of all the people in the world, the both of them understand the value of fixing something broken. That's the place they choose to build their house (it isn't home, not yet). They never have to talk about it, they fall together so easily that sometimes it surprises her that it hadn't always been this way. She kisses him that first morning (soft and tender and trembling with emotion) and never stops. He had been holding her, mumbling apologies into her hair, telling her (stuttering over his words) that they may not ever find a way back because the risk of accidentally endangering Henry's existence was too great. (Oh god, she _loves_ him)

She'd never been built for permanence. Emma Swan, expert in the art of running away and yet here she was, subject to the whims of fate, forcibly rooted to one place (and time).

They throw themselves into the work, trying to cement their memories of the people they would never see again into every nook and cranny of this house they fix.

They make do with the money that Rumplestilskin had given them, buying weapons and tools and clothes. (_I'm not _**_completely_**_ heartless dearies! This should tide you over for a little bit and the rest is up to you and your ability to survive. But, show me your faces ever again, and I may not be as… benevolent)_ They steal some, but never anything too valuable or noticeable. She learns to hunt (Snow White's daughter as it turns out, is a natural with the bow and arrow) and he goes to trade at the docks (being ever so careful to avoid bumping into himself, because drunk as he may have been, he would never have been able to explain that way).

Little by little they find their way.

(Always together)

* * *

They have good days, when they're incandescently happy with one another and this little world they've built out of the ruins of the lives that they had dreamed of. He wakes her up with soft kisses, mapping constellations on her back. She wakes in the circle of his arms, feeling safe and loved. They stay in bed all day (they never really have anywhere to go) and tell each other happy stories. Stories of being loved (albeit briefly), stories of laughter and light, stories about the times that were good. She laughs at the time he fell overboard because he was a stubborn ass and hadn't held on to anything like Liam said. He kisses her forehead when she talks fondly of Henry and how he'd always get sauce on his chin when they ate pizza and how he would tease about her complete inability to play a video game. (Gradually, it becomes easier talking about the people they love. She doesn't get choked up any more or feel the knives in her throat when she speaks)

They offer each other pieces of themselves to keep safe.

(So that the other may remember if they were ever to forget)

* * *

One night she wakes up gasping and sobbing, clawing for Killian beside her. He's up in an instant, holding her close and kissing her hair, mumbling nonsense words of comfort. She melts into him, slowly calming down and breathing easier (the grip she has on his arm tightens all the same).

"I've forgotten what he sounds like.", it's a broken whisper and his heart feels like it's going to shatter. He doesn't know what to say. He understands all too well what it feels like. It feels like betrayal. He's felt it many times over (Liam, Milah, Bae and _Emma_) and knows that this terrible brokenness of the heart doesn't heal, you just learn to live around it. So, he holds her close and wipes her tears, reminds her that all you can do in times like these is to live in the here and now.

* * *

Sometimes when they go out into the world, (it's rare but it's necessary) his grip on her hand borders on painful. He's extra careful that no one sees them, that they don't cause anything different to happen. They avoid her parents (It hurts her heart that she can be so close to them and yet infinitely far) and Regina like they were poison. When they get back, he crushes her to himself and kisses her and kisses her, glad that she hadn't disappeared, that they hadn't accidentally changed the past so that she had never been born. She lets him, because he needs this.

She is his whole world (he is hers) and he doesn't know what he would do if anything ever happened to her.

* * *

She feels lost and displaced, floating around this world and this time that isn't hers. He grounds her with his strength, his loyalty and his love. She feels dim in this land of magic and fairy tales come to life, somehow sucking the light into herself instead of reflecting it. But, he makes her feel beautiful when he traces the curves and dips and swells on her body with his careful hand. He makes her feel revered and cherished, like he is grateful for being able to touch her. In return, she loves him completely and with abandon, kissing him when she wants, touching him as often as possible, never hiding her affection.

Emma Swan has never been this brave.

They talk about the curse. It's coming and they cannot bear to lose one another again. (They are all they have left) Besides, they aren't sure if it would affect them the same way since they were never supposed to be here in the first place. She cannot bear to live in a world where it would be possible to reach Henry and yet have to stay away from him, so they decide to run. They buy a boat (making damn sure it wasn't meant for anyone else) and stock it with everything they can afford. They bid goodbye to their home (at some point over the last few years, it had become home) and set out. They sail fast and far, fully prepared to build again from the ground up.

Life isn't ideal but it's _theirs_ and as it turns out, home can be a person and they have found it one another.


	2. Chapter 2: Family

_Graphic here:_ tmblr . co/ZVRwvr1HuIoN9

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing.

* * *

It becomes a way to calm herself down when the panic hits her, and it hits her anywhere and at any time. No warning. One minute she is fine and then she sees something (a little boy on the street, holding his mother's hand, laughing, smiling) or smells something (cinnamon) and it all comes rushing back. Her little boy is alone. She's left him. _Again._ Breathing is difficult, her fingers clamp around whatever she's holding at the time and her eyes burn with sudden tears.

The first few times, the thing she happened to be holding more often than not, was Killian's hand. (She had taken to reaching for him, seeking his touch ever since that first night when she had fallen asleep with his arm in a death grip.) (Making sure he was still there.) They would be lying in bed and she would be just on the verge of dozing off, comfortable and warm when it would come at her like a freight train.

She hadn't told him what was happening and he hadn't probed, this thing between them too new, too fragile, too breakable. He would just hold her and mumble nonsense into her hair. (_It'll be alright. You're a fighter, love. We'll get through this._)

Soon though, she develops a coping mechanism. She thinks of Regina, of all the ways she'd proved that she would do anything for Henry. (She tries not to think of before, of apple turnovers and crushed hearts.) She repeats this fact to herself over and over. _She'd do anything for him. She loves him. He's not alone._ She thinks of David and Mary Margaret and how she had never let them be her parents. She knows that they would never leave Henry wanting for anything, that they would be amazing grandparents to the son of the child they had lost yet again. She thinks of Ruby and how she remembers Henry's favourite things, how she makes him laugh. (It's also a good thing that she's part wolf.) She lists in her mind all the people who will care for her son, who will be his family when she cannot.

It takes a few months before she finally lets Killian in. It spills out of her one night when they are sated and tangled together, his front pressed to her back, arm around her, her fingers interlaced with his. His lips are barely brushing her shoulder and she feels _soft_ and safe. She brings his hand up, dropping kisses on his knuckles and he stills. The gesture is tender, intimate and she feels his shudder before he buries his face in her neck.

(Intimacy doesn't come easily to her and though he has given his whole heart away, he is content to wait and clutch to his chest any small part of hers that she sends his way.)

She tells him. In a voice that's barely a whisper, playing with his fingers the whole time—never looking at him—she tells him everything. (His arm tightens around her every time her voice breaks.) After she's finished, he kisses her shoulder one more time and says, "Tell me about him, love. Let me help you remember."

There's a lump in her throat and the tears that have been threatening to fall since she started, finally do. She turns in his embrace, drops a kiss near his heart and begins.

She's held these memories of him (it doesn't matter anymore that some of them aren't real) so close to her chest that it makes her feel lighter, sharing them with him, watching him smile and nod and ask questions, watching him fall in love with her boy.

It takes years before the panic fades away (never completely) and it becomes easier to think of Henry. It doesn't feel like drowning when she imagines him growing up. She wonders what career he chooses (she's narrowed it down to lawyer or writer), whether he has a girlfriend (she hopes it's a nice girl and that Regina doesn't interrogate her. Too much), imagines him getting married one day and having children.

Sometimes she wonders if he thinks of her.

(She hopes it isn't too often.)

She just wants him to be happy.

* * *

Killian comes back to the house that day in a _mood_. He's avoiding speaking to her and when he does it's in clipped sentences. But, when she says something about cooking dinner he slams his glass on the table and mutters something about _obligation_.

"What are you even talking about?", her words are coming out shrill and she doesn't like it at all but he's being _ridiculous._He probably hears something in her voice though, because his shoulders finally relax. He sighs deeply and sits down.

"Nothing, Swan. I'm fine." His voice has lost all the terseness of before but now it's just inexplicably sad and she wants to cry and scream because there's suddenly this distance between them and—

"No, you're not. Tell me what's bothering you." She's pleased at how firm her voice sounds despite the fact that it feels like something is clawing at her insides.

"I assure you, I am absolutely fine. There's no need for you to trouble yourself on my account." The clawing in her insides grows and she wants to shake him or slap him, _something_ to make him go back to being her… her Killian. She changes tactics, takes a deep breath and attempts to calm herself down. She sits next to him on the couch and puts a hand on his shoulder, or attempts it in any case. He flinches away almost as soon as she starts the motion and she feels like she's being ripped in half.

"Please talk to me. Please, Killian." She's pleading at this point, her voice soft, caressing, like she's trying envelop him in it. (She needs to _touch_ him.) He looks at her then and the sadness in his gaze makes her want to hold him close to her chest, to whisper words to him to make it better, to kiss him until he forgets everything but her, and them. But he's not letting her so she wraps her arms around her stomach.

"I— I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're stuck here with me, away from your family, away from your _son_. Oh God, Emma I'm so sorry." His voice cracks at the end and the sheen of tears in his eyes in unmistakable. (She holds herself tighter.)

"It's alright. It's not your fault." She tries to touch him again but abruptly, he's standing.

"You don't have to do that. You don't have to—", he stops, his voice is so low, she has to strain herself to hear him.

"—force yourself to be kind to me. I am here for you, Emma, always. But I can't take this anymore. I can't take you being _coerced_ by circumstance, by fate." He doesn't give her a chance to reply, to tell him just how stupid he is being.

"You deserve to be happy. You deserve everything. You certainly deserve more than _me._" The way he says _me_ is what does it. She's choking back a sob and standing up but he turns around then, takes one look at her, shakes his head-

And then he's leaving.

The door shuts behind him and she is frozen.

* * *

"Killian!"

It had taken her all of 10 minutes before she was wrapped in her cloak and out the door. She's drawing in big gasping breaths between each time she calls his name and taking stumbling steps. Keeping herself composed has become a herculean task.

"Killian!"

Oh God, what if she doesn't find him? What if he's left her? He wouldn't, he wouldn't. He said he would always be there for her. He said—

"Killian!"

They've not been here long and she's not familiar enough with the forest to be wandering about in the dark, but she's following the sound of the river she knows is there. She's hoping he's found his way there. (She knows he gravitates to water when he's troubled.)

She stumbles into a clearing and he's turning towards her before she even spots him. They crash into one another (his waves against her rocks) and he's mumbling apologies into her hair and kissing her wherever he can, again and again and again. It's all she can do to hold on to him, her tears fall freely and she finally feels the clawing in her insides calm a little bit.

She pushes away from him and throws a punch to his chest with one hand, the other hastily wiping away her tears.

"You _idiot!_ What were you thinking?!" He grabs her hands when she goes to punch him again and the fight leaves her body.

"You're all I ha—Don't you ever do anything like that ever again Killian Jones." Deep Breath. She takes a step closer to him (his eyes are still so _sad_) and tangles her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"And for the record, _you_ are my family. I am not obligated by anything. I _want_ to be with _you_."

(It's the closest she comes to telling him she loves him for a long time.)

(But, the way he kisses her and holds her that night make her think that he understands her all the same.)

* * *

The days when he goes to the docks to trade are sometimes the longest because those are the days when she feels the loneliness the most. She throws herself into work, hunting, tending the little garden they've grown, cooking (it's a work in progress) (sometimes she burns things, no big deal) but it's all usually done by evening and he doesn't come home until the markets completely close.

Those are the days when she misses _other people_ the most. Sometimes she goes out to sneak about the road and the village nearby, to watch people going about their lives. She realises that this possibly creepy but she craves this contact (no matter how indirect) with normalcy. She lives vicariously through the little girl holding on to her father's leg, asking him for sweets. Through the woman hugging her friends and walking down to the tavern, gossiping and giggling. Through the young mother holding her baby close to her chest while she bargains with a shopkeeper.

Killian finds her one day when she's staring at a group of people cooing over a baby girl in her father's arms and he's by her side immediately, putting an arm around her and pulling her into his chest, facing them away from the crowd. She holds him close and his voice is muffled to her ears because she's buried her face so deep into his shirt. (His smell calms her down. She's not sure when that happened.)

"Ok, love?" She nods against him and he chuckles slowly.

"Mind telling me what you're doing here darling? I thought we were to meet by the river."

She pulls her face away from him.

"I just— I—" She's not sure how to explain it. (I stalk random strangers because I'm lonely?)

He's still got a bemused smile on his face and he drops a kiss on her forehead.

"Contemplating having one of those?" His head jerks backwards towards the child and her heart stutters.

"No! No Killian, we couldn't possibly— How would we even raise it? We can't risk— You're still taking the potion right?" Her words are fast and incoherent and it's a wonder he understands at all but he's pulling her closer and kissing her temple.

"Of course I am. The witch woman gave me enough to last two lifetimes even _after_ her protests at depriving the world of my, no doubt, gorgeous progeny." he's laughing again and she smiles recalling the day he had come back to her with ten bottles of something, beaming ear to ear, telling her how she didn't have to worry about their more carnal activities any more. (She had had a minor freak out after the first time. It was _minor_.) (It really wasn't.)

"I was just making a joke!"

She punches his chest.

"Well, it wasn't very funny.", she mumbles.

"You're all the family I need my darling, my Emma. I love you." His forehead falls towards hers and he kisses her with such tenderness that her heart feels like it's going to explode from feeling.

(They are all the family they have but for some reason, it seems enough.)


	3. Chapter 3: Stories

_Graphic here:_ tmblr . co/ZVRwvr1IzUo3M

_A/N: _Thank you guys so so much for your lovely reviews and follows and favourites on this story! It's honestly, one of my favourite things I've ever done so all your feedback and the fact that some of you like it makes me so very happy. Thank you! One more chapter to go after this one!

On the topic of children (because a couple of you asked), it would be difficult for them to have a kid here because if they did, they'd have added a whole human being to the timeline who had never existed technically. And god knows what that would do to the way things work out in the future. The way they're living now, is in the shadows, trying their best to not be noticed and to not affect anything and yeah, that's why I don't see them having a child in this situation.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing.

* * *

"_Shh! _You'll give us away!", she hisses at him, digging her elbow into his side. He jumps up a little and opens his mouth to say something but settles on glaring at her instead. They're huddled behind some bushes watching people mill about them, talking in multiple groups, sometimes moving from one to another, passing news or changes in plans, preparing to fight. There is a tangible disparity in mood between between Emma and Killian, and the people around them. But then again, they are only here to watch.

They'd sneaked into the clearing long before everyone had arrived and hidden in the bushes from where they'd have the perfect vantage point to see Snow and Charming's speech to their troops.

They had started doing this whenever they could, using the book to learn about important events and sneaking in to watch them unfold. They had avoided the more painful ones, the urge to _fix_ too strong to ignore. The happier stories, especially ones involving her parents were things they looked forward to. They had seen him propose to her by the river, heard her speak in a voice as strong as his sword about how they would reclaim their kingdom. They had tried to be there to watch True Love's Kiss break her mother's curse but it had been too difficult with the dwarves keeping such careful watch. Killian had offered to knock one of them out. (_They'd never know! I promise!_) She had refused of course, preferring not to accidentally mess up their fragile reality. (But, she loved him for offering.)

Now, they crouch in the foliage with branches poking them from all directions, clothes getting wet from the mud and damp leaves. It had rained last night and the cramped quarters weren't helping Killian's mood. He kept fidgeting, disturbing their cover.

"We could blend in easily, love. They'll never remember us. Please, lets just get out of this infernal place.", he whispers. She huffs and turns to look at him, fully intending to tell him off but he looks so much like a wet puppy, (pouting, his eyes wide) that she can't help the smile that creeps across her face.

_Idiot_

"Fine.", she rolls her eyes and takes a quick look around, when she finds nobody close she stands up slowly and Killian follows. They move to the most crowded portion of the camp trying to pass unnoticed. His arm comes around her out of habit, hand slowly tracing the curve of her waist. She tucks herself into him and they wait.

She spots her parents, arm in arm, speaking to a woman who upon closer examination turns out to be Ruby. She feels an urge to run up to them and hug them all, to have Ruby laugh at her for acting so weird, to have her mother hold her gratefully, to have her father's hand upon her head. Tears well in her eyes, blur her vision. She must have moved a little because Killian's arm tightens around her and he leans in close.

"Ok, love? We could slip away if you'd rather."

She lets out a breath and shakes her head but turns her face away from them, pressing it into his chest. His hand comes around to stroke her hair gently and she has never felt more grateful for having him with her. Just being near him, feeling his warmth, smelling his scent, knowing that he will always be there for her imbues her with confidence. She presses a kiss to his jaw and turns back around to watch her parents.

They look every inch the royals, speaking to everybody they pass with respect and kindness, laughing with some, consoling some, inspiring confidence in their ranks. She has now seen almost their entire story unfold with her own eyes and she can no longer deny that these people love so strongly, so deeply that nothing but the direst of circumstance could have forced them to give up their child. She is finally convinced beyond a doubt, of the strength of the love they held for her.

(The fact that she will never be able to tell them is a dull ache in the pit of her stomach that never really goes away.)

Some people try to speak to them but Killian deflects them easily. Smiling warmly, he tells them a story about how his wife, a (_bloody splendid_) archer had had a particularly rough day and didn't really feel like speaking to anyone. He wishes them well, people nod understandingly and usually leave them alone. They keep moving so as to keep a constant distance between themselves and her parents.

Snow and Charming walk about for a few more minutes and share a look, seemingly having a conversation without words. Charming kisses her hand that's been around his arm all this time, gives her a smile and gets everybody's attention.

Then, they speak.

And she is in awe.

They speak of bravery and strength. They speak of community and kindness. They tell their people what they need to hear to continue this fight.

The speech ends and Emma knows what happens next. Potions and King George trying to poison her mother are things she would rather not be around to experience so she slowly moves out of Killian's embrace and takes his hand. As her parents retreat into their tent to talk strategy, they leave the camp as quietly as they had arrived. Nothing shifts in her memories and she is relieved.

When they get home, they curl together in bed and take the book out again to read what happens next. (She's read it so many times, she's got it memorised but this has become a ritual.) She knows the curse is coming and that they might have a chance to go back. They haven't discussed it yet and the thought hangs heavy between them. But then, Killian is running his fingers through her hair and dropping soft kisses on her shoulder. She feels herself slowly leaning into him, moving her head back to give him more access. He nuzzles her neck and the book falls out of her hands as she sighs and closes her eyes. She feels his grin against her skin and they don't talk about it for a while.

* * *

She's laughing, breathless from running, his hand tight in her grip. He's laughing just as hard as he yanks her behind a tree and puts his hand to her mouth.

It was all his idea. When they'd seen that sour little man yelling at the children eyeing his sweets hungrily, it had sparked recognition in her. She had seen herself in those kids and as she turned to Killian, she knew he had too. He had torn his eyes away from the scene and looked at her with mischief sparkling in his eyes.

"What do you say we relieve this gentleman of a few of his wares?"

She had grinned back, a shadow of an idea in her mind and the thief in her jumping with glee. She knew enough of his story to know that he had done this before and they had executed their plan flawlessly. He had distracted the man with ridiculous questions (_And these good sir? Would you say that they could erase the sourness from a man? Or would these over here be better? I'm sure you've tried them all yourself!_) while she had quietly handed over as many sweets as she could to the children.

The man had spotted her of course, which had led to their current predicament.

"_Shh!_ You'll give us away!" He grins and her mouth curves into a matching one. He's standing so close to her that she can feel his heartbeat pounding away under her hand against his chest. When the sound of thundering footsteps fades away, he finally relaxes a little. She grins wider (it seems impossible but she can't help herself) and bites his hand. He chuckles and the sounds warms her. His arms come around her waist to pull her closer and hers around his neck on instinct.

"Do you think he saw us?" he's whispering, eyes wide, hair flopping across his forehead and he looks like a little boy. She feels incandescent, floating on this little moment they've managed to steal. She hasn't felt this light and free in so long that she can't help but pull him close and kiss the smile that's making her feel so full and happy.

It happens in a single, flashing moment.

She realises how much she _loves_ this man. He's helped her find happiness and _home_ in a place and time that are not her own. He's been there to hold her and love her. He's been her friend and her family and she can't imagine her life without him. (She knows now that in any universe, in any version of events, she would have chosen him. Always him.)

When she mumbles three words against his lips, he freezes for a second before pulling her closer, _closer_ and kissing the breath out of her, whispering his love into her skin.

She feels like she is glowing, burning bright for him and she can't imagine how this doesn't change the course of history. But, it doesn't and they continue to write their own story secretly and in the shadows.

They're never going to make it into a book but she can't help but hold their story closer to her heart because of it.

* * *

She's hasn't known what day of the week it is for a very long time. The days fade into each other in a haze. As time passes, their colours slowly change from deep blue nights spent lying awake, sobbing into her pillows to golden yellow afternoons spent with their feet dipped in the river, quiet laughing and languid kisses. She grows into this life, this world, into being with him.

The last few months — ever since she had finally knocked away the very last brick of the wall keeping him out — have been especially effortless.

Today is one of those days when the breeze is making their hair sway, the sun is warming their faces and the water is cooling their feet. She sits leaning on her elbows, staring at the clouds, and he's lying on his back next to her. His left arm covers his eyes and his right hand is gently playing with the ends of her hair.

(He's a little bit obsessed with her hair. He'd said something about a pirate and his gold when she'd brought it up. But, it's not like she can talk, with her near constant need to touch his hand and play with his fingers.)

"How long do you think it's been?" He graces her with a sleepy grunt in reply. She looks over at him and really, she's not to blame for what happens next. How is she supposed to resist teasing him when he looks like _that_? So peaceful in his loose shirt and pants, sunlight lighting up his face.

She takes a moment to admire him before she sits up, slowly creeps her arms around him and begins to tickle his sides. He jolts up with a shout and tries to jump back, away from her fingers. But she follows, and he can't stop squirming and laughing. Her own giggles haven't stopped since the second he had jumped back.

"Swan! Please!" She shakes her head, gives him a grin and continues her assault. His laughter is peppered with pleas for her to stop.

Suddenly, his arms come around her, pinning hers tightly to her side. He quickly flips their positions. They're both panting heavily and wearing matching smiles.

"Now, what did I do to deserve that my love?", he says lowly.

"You weren't listening to me. I had to get your attention somehow now didn't I?"

She lowers her voice too. It's become a habit, speaking like this, making sure they're never heard. His arms loosen around her and hers go up around his neck but neither of them make a move to get up.

"Apologies, milady. That was bad form. What were you saying?" She rolls her eyes at his dramatics but kisses him anyway when he pouts at her.

"I was _saying_, I wonder how long it's been." His face turns pensive as he attempts to calculate the time they have spent here already.

"I would approximate it to maybe three years. Give or take a few months." Her smile fades a little bit.

"It's coming soon isn't it?"

"I should think so."

"What do we do?" There's an edge of panic in her voice now because she has thought about this. She has thought about this in so much detail, so many times.

She knows that the walls between the worlds come down when the dark curse is cast. But, if they travel through now, there's no telling if they would get swept up in the curse itself and lose each other or worse, mess up the time line so the curse never gets broken. But, the walls also come down when the curse is broken. This way, there's a chance they'll make it through without mishap. But, they would have to stay as far away from Storybrooke as possible and she's not sure she can bear living in a world with Henry in it but never seeing him. There's also the kink of them having to wait 28 years for the curse to be broken.

No. This is their only chance. But, she's not sure she wants to take it. She's built a life here and it's _good_ and she's reasonably happy and she doesn't want to risk hurting the future. (There's a little part of her screaming at her to _fight!_ Fight for her son, her family. Fight for a way back home.) She knows rationally, that this is the right thing to do but it doesn't stop the pain in her heart from growing stronger and stronger the closer they get to the curse.

He senses her mood and drops a chaste kiss on her forehead before rolling off her. He gathers her in his arms and she finds her home against his chest.

"Run away with me."

"As you wish."


	4. Chapter 4: Home

_Graphic here: _tmblr . co/ZVRwvr1L6gq1r

_A/N: _This is the end guys! Thank so much for all the love, it makes me so so happy that you enjoyed it! :) I still have a million headcanons set in this universe so if you're into it, I kinda would love to write some more. Let me know!

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing.

* * *

She's navigating her way through the crowd at the docks, breeze through her hair, bow slung across her shoulder, arrows on her back. She's making her way home after her hunt in the woods nearby. She always feels this way after a good hunt, light, powerful, present_. Purposeful._

The air is saltier here, more humid. It's probably something to do with the fact that they're surrounded by water on three sides. Despite the heat and some terribly unpleasant summers, being by the water makes Killian happy and she doesn't know when it happened but it makes her happy too. As she walks, she spots a stall selling some mangoes and her mouth waters for the delicious fruit.

She's just about to take her first bite into the half in her hand when someone's arms come around her from behind, grab her hand and take a bite instead. She turns around indignantly and smacks his chest.

"Hey! Get your own!"

But, no matter how angry she wants to appear, she can't help but smile at the sight of Killian Jones, grinning at her through a mouthful of mango, a little juice dripping down his chin. He swallows and licks his lips and it's ridiculous because it's been over ten years, her stomach should not be doing little flips right now.

"Now, why would I do that? What's yours is mine, isn't it my love? We _did_ promise."

"Yeah, well, I don't think our agreement—"

"Vows."

She rolls her eyes, a shadow of a smile on her face. He loves reminding her of the night before they had reached the Maritime Kingdom. They had lain on the deck of their little boat and exchanged lazy kisses and whispered their promises under the stars. To hold, to cherish, to love.

As long as they both shall live.

(He had told her, as he tightened his hold around her and buried his face in her neck, "I'm still a captain love. You should know we are now lawfully wed. No escaping from me now." She'd laughed, a few stray tears escaping her eyes and pulled his face up to hers. His smile was blinding and she could have sworn the stars had dimmed in the face of it.)

"Yeah, well, I don't think our _vows _included you stealing my food."

His pout has no business being as adorable as it is and she sighs and caves in, wiping the juice off his chin with her thumb and licking it off. His eyes darken and he yanks her closer, bumping their hips together.

"Now, that's just unfair."

"What's yours is mine, right?"

He mumbles _Always_ as he kisses her smile. His lips are a little sticky and he tastes of sweetness and laughter. She can't stop kissing him, tasting him and for a moment she is completely and unconditionally happy.

* * *

It's easier here. They don't have to hide as much because they play a much smaller role in the future of this place when compared to the Enchanted Forest. They've gotten better at judging situations as well, knowing when it is okay to intervene and when it is time to get out of the way.

They keep the boat.

Some days, they sail to islands nearby and spend their days lying around in the sun. They meet mermaids sometimes. Their first instinct had been to run but it turns out that outside of Neverland, mermaids are pretty friendly and love hearing a good story.

Days, months, years pass. Wrinkles map their faces, imprints of the life they have lived. Their bodies grow slower, hair greys but they have never been closer.

* * *

She wakes up in a sweat, Henry's voice ringing in her ears. (_But, you're a hero!) _Her hands are shaking and she's taking gasping breaths.

Her panic attacks have come back.

They'd reduced in frequency so much ever since they had come here, that she had almost forgotten what they had felt like. But, now they're back almost every night. The dreams, the aches in her stomach, the feeling of knives in her throat.

Most days she sees Henry, back in Pan's clutches, falling into a portal, in some sort of danger and she is never able to get to him. She is always obstructed by a barrier of some sort, she fights and fights to get to her baby but it never works. His agonised screams of her name, his accusations and pleas echo in her mind long after she wakes up.

Sometimes it's her parents. She always sees them mourning her. Her mother crying into her father's shoulder as they stand by a grave, hers. She tries to reach out to them, tries to tell them that she is fine, she is happy but they never hear.

Years of living together have attuned them to each other so much that Killian wakes up as soon as she does. He's always there to welcome her into his arms, his voice low and comforting, bringing her back from her nightmares.

Today, as he holds her and runs his hand through her hair he asks her the question that's been at the back of her mind ever since she'd had the first dream.

(He'd always been able to read her like a book)

"Would you like to go back?"

She can't stop her tears from falling or her sobs from escaping. She buries her face in his chest until she calms down. It's been twenty-eight years. It's been too long that she's lived without her son, without her parents and it's catching up to her.

"Shh, my love. It's alright. I began looking for a magic bean the moment we arrived here."

He kisses her hair and when she looks at him, eyes wide, tears still shining in her eyes, he smiles softly, his eyes filled with so much love that she feels like she might burst from all the things she feels for him. A fresh wave of tears assaults her and his face softens as he wipes them away with his knuckles. She reaches up and kisses him, mumbling _I love you I love you _over and over again.

* * *

The land somewhere off the coast of Maine and if Killian's calculations are right, this is about the time that he is making his way to New York to find her. Coming back feels odd to say the least.

They check into a motel near Storybrooke. Trading in their savings at various pawn stores had gotten them a decent amount of cash which they spend on accommodation and clothing. The clothes store had been quite an adventure, Killian had been excited by the sheer number of mirrors alone.

(_Come on love, old or not, I'm still devilishly handsome._)

She watches television and it is a _revelation_. She introduces Killian to movies and books and cars. A few weeks pass blissfully in a blur of activity that is necessary to keep her from driving out to see Henry in the middle of the night.

They keep a watch for the big yellow beacon into the sky that signals Zelena's portal. It takes a few weeks but they finally see it one morning. They wait two days, just to be safe and then make their way home.

* * *

When they walk into Granny's, it is a blur of hugs and tears and nobody seems to notice that Emma's hair is has streaks of grey through it, the deep crows feet around Killian's eyes, the way they don't let go of each other's hands.

It is David who finally notices as he traces the lines on her face. His eyes go wide and he asks her what had happened. She gives him a watery smile, leaning into his touch.

"It's a long story. Maybe we should sit down."

A pause.

"I would kill for some hot chocolate right now."

He laughs, asks Ruby for some hot chocolate and then they all gather in a booth as she and Killian tell them the bare bones of what had happened. She sits with her arm around Henry and doesn't let go the entire time.

There are more tears, more hugs and she knows it will be an adjustment but she is unbelievably happy to be with them again.

* * *

Old habits die hard.

They still tend to keep to themselves, talking in hushed voices. They'd lived a lifetime hiding in the shadows that suddenly being thrust into the limelight, so to speak, takes a toll on them. She is happiest at night when they are alone and wrapped up in each other, knowing that Henry and her parents are just down the hall and that she can see them and touch them when she pleases.

Being older than her parents is something that takes a little getting used to, but their life had never been normal so this ends up just being another thing they ultimately figure out.

She and Killian spend days telling Henry, Roland and eventually Neal, stories from the Enchanted forest and they hang on to every word. She loves those days, they make her feel like she had only been on some sort of extended vacation, not ripped away from everyone she loves.

She spends as much time as she can with Henry. Regina understands, thankfully, and doesn't complain when Emma insists he stay over with her more often. She spends time with her parents, trying to make up for the lifetime they were cheated out of.

Some nights she is so angry, angry at circumstance, at Zelena for stealing her life away from her that she can barely breathe. But, no matter how furious she gets, she is always grateful for the man laying next to her.

She traces the curves and lines of his sleeping face and remembers how time and again, he has brought her home, he has _been _her home, her rock, her north star. She can only hope that she has made him half as happy as he has made her.

(She tells him this one day and he seems perplexed at how she could even consider the fact that she wasn't the best thing that had ever happened to him.)

(_Growing old with you has been a privilege my darling._)

"Ok, love?", he mumbles sleepily.

She smiles and kisses him lightly before burrowing back into his arms.

"Yes."


End file.
